“It’s Skywalker, “Caedus said. “Try to filter these apparitions out from the real threats. It’s hard, but that’s how he wants to decoy you, to get you firing carelessly.”
“Oh, you’re kidding me…” Clearly, Loccin and another junior officer, Duv-Horlo were seeing what he was, so this was a large-scale illusion registering on many minds, not just projected at one like his had been. “Did someone raid an aerospace museum? What the stang is that?”
“Steady, “said Caedus. “It looks real, but beware.”
None of the ships’ transponders registered pennant codes on the system-there was only so far that Luke could go in embroidering this fantasy, then-and the two young officers tried to identify the vessels by class alone, as if it was some cadet instruction at the naval academy. There were now two Crusader cruisers, a Victory-class Star Destroyer, and a squadron of TIE fighters. A Venator and two Republic-class ships dropped out at exactly the same mo-ment like a choreographed party surprise of the very worst kind.
“Sir…”
It was very convincing. It was exactly like the previous attempt, except more imaginative, and the feeling of real mass and power was detectable now. I think…. I think this might be real.
“Get me the senior Moff and ask if those are his… mili-tia forces.”
The motley fleet kept growing, falling out of history into Caedus’s here and now, and their weapons were real. The sensor ops team was flat-out trying to assess the battle elements ranging against them.
“Fierfek, those are Assassin corvettes…”
“How many more?”
“I thought the Scimitars had gone for scrap by now.”
“This is crazy. Where did all these crates come from?”
An Assassin broke out of formation, blinding white power streaming from its cannon. A GA carrier moving X-wings into position exploded, the whole aft section swallowed in a ball of expanding light.
It was no illusion.
Loccin seemed to have had enough of humoring his commander. “That’s really dead, sir. Sorry to argue, but that’s real, it’s absolutely real.”
I’m losing concentration. I’ve got to stay sharp. Where in the name of the force did these come from? “Yes, it is, so come about and ready torpedoes.”
Flaring into existence like the avenging swoophawk that the Jacipri sages said would herald the end of the universe, an Imperial Star Destroyer was now on a ramming course for the Anakin Solo.
It had an identifiable pennant code.
“Sir, it’s I-Two… oh, that can’t be right, “said Duv-Horlo. “Someone’s doing a psy ops job on us, real metal or not.”
Caedus took a slow breath. He recognized it, too, but this time he believed. “She was never confirmed destroyed.”
It was a vessel that had been flagship to the legendary admirals of modern history and fought at some pivotal battles. The veteran ship was looking a lot tidier than it had at the Battle of Bastion.
It-no, she was fully restored.
“Chimaera, “said Caedus.
“Sir, someone’s emptied the whole galactic junkyard, and then some.”
Caedus felt such focus and long-suppressed venom in the Force that he almost thought he’d detected a Sith, but this was mundane darkness; simmering, long-nursed griev-ances, longing for justice-diffuse longing, any justice-a piercing shaft of sorrow right through it. The sensation would have fascinated him had he not been more preoccu-pied with how much trouble was in his path.
“You know what we girls are like, “said a slightly rasp-ing patrician voice over the open comm. “We just can’t throw anything away in case it comes back into fashion years later.”
“You have me at a disadvantage, madam…”
“My apologies, Colonel Solo. Where are my manners? This is Admiral Daala, flag officer of the Maw Irregular Fleet, and I ask that you stand down and leave Fondorian space now.”
I knew she was back on the list, but the Moffs need to improve their intelligence gathering…
“As Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance, I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Caedus summoned his overstretched battle meditation skills. “Flight, stand by five-seven and five-nine squadrons.”
“As you please, sir, “said Daala. “Maw Fleet, patch into Admiral Niathal’s combat information center and give the lady a hand.”
A Moffs voice came over the comm, unhelpfully late. “We knew Pellaeon had recalled her for something underhanded.”
“Good afternoon, you insignificant little man.” The satisfied polish to Daala’s voice was tarnished by some pain and regret, though. Caedus heard it. “This one’s for Gil Pellaeon. And…. Liegeus.”